


tea for two

by civillove



Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [5]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soft Rio (Good Girls)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: Anon requested on tumblr: Really enjoying your fics! Prompt: Rio/Beth interacting with the kids in tow. Post 2x08.--“You got a bird on you.” Jane says suddenly, moving to sit on Rio’s lap. Her hand touches the right side of his neck, where the feathered wingspan lies and Beth sits up a little straighter.“Babe, what have we talked about with personal space?” She asks, her voice slightly scolding.Rio’s body language is unchanging; he’s not annoyed or frustrated that his space has been encroached upon. “Nah, she’s good.” He takes the girl’s hand and gives it a soft squeeze before smiling down at her, “You like birds?”





	tea for two

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can fall into my timeline after ‘theirs’. It’s not necessary to read all my fics before this one, but the context doesn’t hurt! As a head up, there’s a lot of references to things that transpired between them during ‘theirs’ in this tiny fic.

 

There’s nothing quite like baking cookies and if Beth thinks about it, before everything that’s put her life into a spin cycle, there was nothing that she couldn’t solve with a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies browning in her oven. Now she knows that isn’t true but the ritual of putting fresh ingredients together, of eating too many chocolate chips as she scoops out perfect circles, and the sweet smell filling her house is something that still brings her comfort.

She adjusts her apron and puts a few bowls into the dishwasher. When the doorbell rings, Beth quickly wipes her hands on a kitchen towel and checks the oven before rushing to open it.

Her eyes fall upon Dean, who’s holding Jane in his arms, her pink dubby against her chest. He looks tired, dark purple bags under his eyes, a soft scruff working its way along his jawline that she used to find attractive. Now his presence just puts her on edge, because there’s always some sort of catch to anything he says anymore, anything he does.

He’s angry with her and it boils the blood under her skin that he’s using the kids to somehow settle a score that has nothing to do with them.

Beth quickly notices that her other kids aren’t with them, it’s just Jane and Dean, who steps over the threshold and into her space. She smooths her hands over her apron, a nervous habit to keep her hands busy as she looks up at her husband. She should really start using another word to describe him…they haven’t talked about divorce, not yet, but the word ‘husband’ holds more warmth and affection than she holds for Dean.

That she hasn’t felt for him in a long time.

“Where are the others?”

“At the park with my mother.” Dean replies, moving to set Jane down on the floor.

Something dark and sickening uncurls in her stomach because _why didn’t he bring them?_ but she tries to smile at Jane who looks up at her with her big brown eyes that remind her of deer that she used to feed in her yard. She runs her hand along her hair, silky smooth underneath her fingertips.

“Cookies!” She says and Beth smirks, tapping her nose with her finger.

“Good nose; made them just for us. Why don’t you do me a favor, since you’re a professional cookie monster,” Jane giggles. “And go check on them for me. Use the little oven light, okay? Don’t open the lid.” She calls after her, watching her daughter already run towards the kitchen.

Her smile instantly slips from her face, turning to look at Dean who has his hands in his pockets and looks like he wants to be anywhere other than in this house. She bites her tongue on how ironic _that_ is—a few months ago he was practically groveling, thinking of and doing _anything_ that could get him back into her good graces.

It really just shows how past that point they are now.

“Why didn’t you bring them?” She doesn’t want to start this while Jane’s in the kitchen, but she can’t stop the prickling annoyance that’s working its way down her spine at Dean’s comment about her other kids at the park.

“They didn’t want to come.” He all but snaps, trying to end the conversation quickly by hitting her where it hurts. That can’t be true and her jaw tenses as she bites the inside of her cheek, hard.

“Are we really going to keep doing this?”

“Are you really going to keep seeing him despite how it tears your family apart?” Dean points out, his hands going to his hips as if he’s scolding a child.

And despite the fact that she doesn’t want her mind to go there, those finger shaped bruises decorating her skin above her panty line heat with a flame like a match striking. She lets out a slow breath and shakes her head; _no,_ she refuses to buckle to Dean. She can be a mother and a boss bitch at the same time, she’s proven it, and she won’t let anyone take that from her.

Especially him.

Her silence is all the response Dean needs and a scoff leaves his lips before moving to step through the front door, “I’ll be back to get her at seven.” And walks off the porch before she has a chance to say anything else. She allows her eyes to slip shut, closing the door with a resounding thud before pressing her forehead against the wood for a moment.

She breathes in and out, trying to control the heartbeat that’s hammering in her ears. _She can figure this out. She can do this. Everything will work out just fine._ Beth tells herself these things over and over again and she hopes that one day she’ll believe it.

“Mommy! There’s a man at the door!”

Beth turns to look at her, a frown pulling at the edges of her mouth, her eyes wandering towards the back door. Her stomach does an entire somersault in her torso because she knows exactly who it is, waiting for her on the back patio. She quickly moves into the kitchen and licks her lips, glancing at the oven to make sure the cookies aren’t going to burn.

“How are the cookies?” She asks, offering her a small smile and takes off her apron.

“Nothing to report, they’re not done yet.” Jane looks up at her with entirely too much attitude that reminds her of herself, totally confident in her cookie report that she’s almost sassy about Beth asking her.

A soft laugh tumbles out of her mouth, “Okay, good to know. How about you get us some plates? Get us ready for when they come out so we can gobble them up.” She leans down and tickles her daughter’s belly, the sound music to her ears compared to the silence of her house that she’s acclimated to lately.

Beth glances towards the back patio and sighs, running a hand over her hair and moving to open the back door just a fraction to see Rio waiting on her.

His eyes instantly find hers, a warm brown like the chocolate chips melting in her oven. He has a gray t-shirt on today with his black hoodie unzipped and at least he’s not doing that weird half-on, half-off thing with his hood. There’s a heat pooling in her chest, working it’s way lower; she thinks that despite all the times that this reaction happens to her she’s never ready for that ache that develops between her legs.

Rio’s hands are in his pockets and he nods his head at her, intent on moving inside but she doesn’t open the door any further. Despite how good it is to see him and the business she knows he wants to talk about,

“You can’t be here right now.”

Beth wants to end this conversation quickly and hopes that he gets the point that she can’t entertain him today. She tries to close the door, but he wedges his foot in-between. His hand then wraps around the door, intent on opening it further since she won’t.

“Oh I’m sorry I’m not waiting on an invitation, this ain’t cotillion.”

She glances inside her kitchen at Jane setting plates on the floor of all places and she already knows she’s about to have a very serious tea party in her future. “I _really_ can’t talk today.”

Rio shakes his head, his eyebrows drawing together in what looks like the beginning of frustration because he hates being rescheduled. She knows this and while she understands he’s busy and has more business transactions that go beyond her and their involvement, he has to understand that her world revolves around more than him.

“And I _really_ could care less.”

Jane suddenly runs up beside Beth and wraps her arms around her, looking up at her with her chin on her hip. “Mommy, the cookies are ready.”

And just like that, Rio’s demeanor changes, he visibly softens around the edges and a soft smile decorates his handsome face. He’s watching her with a curious expression, his hand removing itself off the door so he’s not towering over her daughter; he even takes a step back to give them a little space.

Jane notices him then and her face kisses pink, instantly hiding it in Beth’s side and squeezing her middle a little tighter. She’s always been a little shy around new people so Beth soothes her fingers through her brown hair and clears her throat.

This seems unavoidable now.

“Jane, this is Rio, mommy’s…friend.” She trails off a moment and rolls her eyes at the amused smirk he gives her. “You gonna say hi?”

“Hi.” She says, voice muffled by the fabric of Beth’s clothes. She has one eye on Rio but hasn’t removed her face from her hiding spot.

And just when Beth thinks she knows him, just when she thinks she has Rio figured out, he always does something that surprises her: like slowly crouching so he can be eyelevel with Jane while he speaks to her.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s really nice to meet you.” His voice is warmer than usual, gentle in a way she’s only heard him speak to his son. “Did you say somethin’ about cookies?”

When he’s talking to her like this, his voice the sound of caramel, Jane’s defenses drop. She turns her face to look at him and brightens at the topic of conversation.

“Yes! My mom is making chocolate chip. We usually don’t share but you can have one.”

Rio grins, “Oh I’m honored,” and has the nerve to look up at Beth, his eyes dancing in too much amusement. “Didya hear that?” She’s really tempted to knock him off balance so he falls back onto his ass on the patio but she’s got to get cookies out of the oven.

She smiles sweetly, “That’s because she doesn’t know you as well as I do.” And backs up to go into the kitchen and turn the oven off, looking for her oven mitts.

Rio walks into the kitchen and closes the door and she can feel him watch her from behind, his eyes traveling over her form as she takes the cookies out and sets them on the stove to cool. She can’t seem to find her baking spatula for a moment until she realizes it’s ended up in the wrong drawer. When she turns back around, Rio licks his lips and leans his forearms onto the counter.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night when you gave me somethin’ sweet of yours,” Her hand grips the spatula, her eyes meeting his lazy gaze and she doesn’t understand how it always feels like coming home.

Heat kisses her skin, her heart picking up the pace in her chest. She hates that he always seems to know how to do this, that he _enjoys_ flustering her and despite all they’ve been through she doesn’t get used to it. He knows exactly what he needs to say and how to say it.

“Probably just as good as one of these cookies, yeah?”

He’s reaching for one of them on the pan and this time she does smack his hand with the spatula because, “They’re not done yet.”

He smirks but before he can respond, _thank God,_ Jane is running up to him and tugging on the end of his hoodie. “Living room!” She runs off, her dubby trailing behind her like a veil on a wedding dress and Beth chuckles softly.

“Very important tea party business, you better go, she doesn’t like asking twice.”

Rio hums, “Wonder where she gets that from.”

He manages to steal a cookie this time because she’s not paying attention and she’s not quick enough to smack him again and pops some of it into his mouth as he escapes into the living room. She only has the brief satisfaction that the batter will probably be too hot against the pads of his fingers and his tongue.

She rolls her eyes and gently scrapes the rest of the cookies off the tray and onto a plate; she can hear Jane talking a mile-a-minute in the other room but can’t quite make out what she’s saying. It’s funny how the tables turn sometimes because the fact that her daughter is sitting with a criminal in her living room is something she never thought she’d think about.

And be okay with.

But she’s seen Rio with Marcus and even though it’s only been a few times, she can tell instinctively that he’s a good father, for whatever that’s worth. She can tell by his body language, the softness in his eyes and his willingness to be _absorbed_ into the world kids sometimes drag adults into.

It’s obvious as she carries the cookie plate and a container of milk into her living room, Rio seated on the floor near the coffee table, legs crossed comfortably as he watches Jane. She’s performing some sort of ballet number for him, of course, and his expression is open and exaggerated bouts of impressed as she twists and twirls.

She’s struck with the domesticity of this moment, so hard that she nearly drops the plate of cookies in her hands. When she told Dean that their roles would be reversed, that she would be working at the car dealership while he took care of the kids, she remembers how overwhelmed he’d been.

Beth could read the expression on his face the first few days, how uncontrolled and _unhappy_ he was to be making breakfast and lunches, to have to run and follow multiple schedules and clean up the house; ‘can’t _you_ take care of this?’ on the tip of his tongue every time he saw her. It’d worked out, sure, but only because she forced him into keeping that role. Because she refused to step down from something she loved doing.

She loves being a mother, but Dean doesn’t seem to understand that she wants to be something _more._ That she’s completely capable of being both a successful business woman and a mother.

“Look at you setting the table and everything.” Beth shakes herself out of her thoughts, moving to sit next to Rio on the floor. Jane has set plates down that have a variety of cartoon characters smiling back up at her on the glass of the coffee table and a doll’s set of the tiniest tea-cups she’s ever seen ready for milk to be poured into them.

Jane grins, obviously very proud, and wanders back to the table. She passes cookies out, giving Rio two and Beth pointedly ignores his shit-eating grin. Beth takes care of the milk and when she passes him his cup, his hand clasps hers, fingers dragging across her skin. The touch feels like unbridled electricity and she clears her throat, leaning her back against the bottom of the couch before taking a small sip from her teacup.

Her daughter munches on a cookie, staring at Rio like he’s one of the most interesting things she’s ever seen and while Beth bites her tongue on saying something stupid outloud like _same,_ she kind of understands where Jane is coming from. That’s one of the things that attracted her to Rio in the first place; he’s handsome and interesting and on a more complicated level, he oozes self-confidence and danger that can be wildly addictive.

“You got a bird on you.” Jane says suddenly, moving to sit on Rio’s lap. Her hand touches the right side of his neck, where the feathered wingspan lies and Beth sits up a little straighter.

“Babe, what have we talked about with personal space?” She asks, her voice slightly scolding.

Rio’s body language is unchanging; he’s not annoyed or frustrated that his space has been encroached upon. “Nah, she’s good.” He takes the girl’s hand and gives it a soft squeeze before smiling down at her, “You like birds?”

Jane glances at her mother, waiting a moment to make sure she’s not going to get reprimanded again before nodding her head. “Is that an eagle?”

He hums and puts his cookie down on his plate, licking chocolate off his lips. “No, but that’s a good guess. It’s actually a hawk.”

All this time she thought it was an eagle as well, but she supposes if she looks a little closer, a little longer at the delicate line work, she can make out the distinct characteristics of a hawk. It’s ambiguous to say the least and she’s never given much thought to figuring out which bird was decorating his neck.

But clearly Jane wants to know.

“Hawks are birds of prey,” His eyes flicker to hers before giving his attention back to her daughter. “Sometimes they can swoop down from the air,” His hand motions the action, “and scoop animals right up into their grasp.” And then his fingers come down to tickle her sides, making her giggle wildly.

Beth can’t help but smile at the sound, shaking her head as Jane rolls off of him and then steals a cookie from his plate, her cheeks flushed with a very happy pink.

“Did you still…” She trails off, hoping Rio will pick up what she’s talking about.

He does, of course, and nods his head. “I got more cars comin’ in on Tuesday.” He takes a sip from his teacup and the pink plastic is so small in his hands and contrasting wildly with his neck tattoo that she almost laughs.

“Cars that have the same…” She glances at her daughter, who is playing with a Barbie doll under the coffee table as they talk. “Candy?”

Rio’s face blossoms with amusement, can’t help it, a pleasant laugh tumbling out of his throat. Jane’s ears perk at what she’s said and looks up at the both of them. “What kind of candy!”

He hums, leaning his elbow onto the coffee table to frame his chin in his palm, watching Beth and waiting for her to answer. When she doesn’t, “The best kind, though not as sweet as you.”

Jane scrunches her nose and this time Beth does laugh, curling her hair around her ear as her daughter stands up from the floor. “Can we watch _Minions_?”

Beth sighs and hates that she’s seen this movie a hundred and sixty times but puts on her best smile and says, “Of course, dear. It’s upstairs near the TV in my room. You know where?”

She nods and takes off at a run, clambering up the steps like it might disappear before she gets there. Rio stands and offers her a hand to take, which she does, helping her stand before collecting a few dishes. He takes them into the kitchen and Beth picks up the milk and Jane’s dubby off the floor.

Her fingers press into the pink softness and brings it up to her nose, breathing in the scent of warmth and her daughter’s skin. She remembers how she’d done something so careless to leave it in the back seat of that car, of doing something even _more_ reckless by trying to get it back on her own.

_My daughter needed something in the car._

_Who cares?_

Beth’s eyes flutter up to watch Rio move around the kitchen, putting plates and teacups in the sink. He cares, she realizes, he cares despite when he says he doesn’t. She sets the blanket on the couch and wanders back into the kitchen, putting the milk in the fridge.

“I’ll take care of the cars Tuesday.”

“I know you will, partner.” Rio says, smiling as he zips up his hoodie. He’s quiet for a moment after that, considering something he’s about to say for a moment, chewing on the thought that enters his mind.

His chin gestures to the steps where Jane’s run up them. “He only lettin’ you see one kid at a time?”

Beth swallows and looks away from him. How is she supposed to explain that this is Dean’s idea of control? That it almost makes sense with the amount of control she’s taken away from _him_ in their relationship. She’s too tired to explain, too overwhelmed about the prospect that while she thinks she can handle everything but that she might not be able to fix this.

She’s unable to give him a real response, so she just shrugs her one shoulder and hopes that’s enough. Maybe if she pretends she’s alright long enough that it’ll settle in her bones and feel real. But of course, Rio knows her and the muscles in his jaw work, yet again, over Dean’s stupidity.

He doesn’t say anything though, just lifts his hand and brushes his thumb along her jawline. Beth closes her eyes at his touch, soothing in a way she can’t describe and doesn’t want to. He eventually pulls away, moving towards the back porch to leave.

“I never did thank you for getting her blanket back.” Beth says, making him pause at the door. He turns to look at her, putting his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“You don’t got to.”

It somehow feels so long ago, her thanking him overdue despite the fact he says she shouldn’t. “But I am,” She swallows, licking her lips. “Thanking you.”

He shrugs her off, the weight of him bringing this item back to her settling over them like a ton of bricks. Rio looks like he’d rather not talk about it, an almost uncomfortable tension popping between them like firecrackers. He mumbles out a ‘no worries’, his hand moving to rub at the back of his neck as he opens the back door.

Before he can step back onto the patio, Jane is running downstairs and into the kitchen, pausing at his exit. There’s a beautiful pout on her lips that Beth knows, when she gets older, will most likely get her anything she wishes.

“You’re leaving?”

Rio almost buckles, she can see it work across his face, but he’s busy and despite the fact that her daughter has big doe eyes he’s not going to stick around for a movie. It’s probably better he’s nowhere near the house when Dean comes back, anyways.

He crouches down to her eyelevel again, “Yeah, I gotta go, sweets. I’ll be around though.” He smiles before he stands, “Take care of your ma, yeah?” And taps her nose with his pointer finger before heading out the back door, looking over his shoulder at Beth. “See you.”

She chews on her lower lip, a soft smile infectiously working its way onto her face as she closes the door and picks up her daughter to hold her on her hip. “You got the movie?”

Jane nods as they walk into the living room, DVD hanging loosely in her grasp as she pushes hair away from her face. “I like him.”

Beth smiles and lets out a long sigh, plopping her onto the couch before grabbing another cookie she doesn’t need. “Yeah,” She agrees. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> ya'll I have actually no idea what the bird is on Rio's neck, I actually think it's an eagle BUT for the intents of my story line it's a hawk, fight me ;) here's my delicious pic reference: https://ewedit.files.wordpress.com/2018/04/nup_181708_1056.jpg
> 
> I'm always taking prompts at my tumblr: blainesebastian.tumblr.com/ask
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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